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Stolen moments with Jackson have been incredible. I can’t describe this connection I feel with him, but it’s tangible. I crave him all the time. When we’re together, it’s nothing short of magical. He makes me feel safe and loved. He gives my body a release that I’ve never felt before. Yet even between the quiet heartbeats, I feel something so real with him. It’s not all lust—it’s so much more.
I’m aware that it doesn’t make sense, not a lick of it. We’re from different worlds, opposing social circles. But none of that matters when we’re together. It’s professionally wrong, I know, but I can’t stop. I’ve tried numerous times. He’s this magnet pulling me, and as much as I want to resist, I don’t have the strength.
On the other hand, sneaking around with him is causing an ulcer to form in the pit of my belly. I’m terrified of being discovered. My parents will disown me, and I’ll lose my job. None of what Jackson and I share will be accepted here. Girls like me aren’t brought up to be with boys like him. Yet no one sees him for who he truly is except his sister and me.
He’s not the stereotypical son of an alcoholic pedophile or a cracked-out mother. He’s so much more. He loves me, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t falling for him, too. But what kind of life can we have here? I will always be the teacher who slept with her student, and he will always be trailer trash. Closed minds and black hearts don’t change.
I shut my eyes and allow visions of last night in the barn to flash through my mind in toe-curling detail. Who knew that someday, I’d rate Old Man Warren’s dirty old barn as one of my favorite places on earth. My mother would burn it down if she could see the images playing in my mind at this very moment.
“Miss Sullivan. Are you okay?” Mrs. Ryan, the English teacher, asks.
I release a startled puff of air. “Oh, yes. I’m sorry. I was just thinking.”
“About how happy you are it’s summer?” She smiles warmly with the joy that all teachers carry this time of year. “I remember that first year.”
“Exactly.” I chuckle.
“Well, you survived. Just one more event until summer.” She motions toward the rows of chairs. “It’s time for us to take our seats.”
“Right,” I nod and follow her out.
I take a seat in the front row between Mrs. Ryan and the gym teacher, Mr. Lewis. This section is reserved for staff. It feels weird to be sitting here amongst my former teachers. Even now, they all seem so adult when I’m still very much floundering through life.
The band plays, indicating the start of the ceremony. The principal speaks, followed by the class president and valedictorian. I can’t remember every word of my own valedictorian speech, but if I’m not mistaken, this guy just gave the CliffsNotes version of it.
Butterflies start to flutter in my chest when the principal begins to call the students’ names. With such a small class, what must be two minutes pass before he’s calling out, Jackson Hunt.
Jackson walks across the stage and takes the diploma in his hand before turning toward the crowd of people seated below the stage. I clap along with the rest of the teachers. His eyes find mine, and he shoots me a big smile and a wink before continuing back across the stage.
His sister may be here somewhere, but I know that neither of his parents are. I hope he can see in my face that I’m so proud of him. He’s had a lifetime of reasons to drop out, yet he’s determined to make something of himself. He has more inner strength than any other person graduating here tonight, and my heart aches with adoration for him.
I take a sip of my wine as my eyes dart around nervously. My form-fitting dress has seemed to shrink a size on the hour drive to this restaurant. I take in each face at every table, terrified to see someone I know.
“You’re clearly uncomfortable. I told you this wasn’t necessary.” Jackson shakes his head and takes a sip of his water.
I encouraged him to order something else, a celebratory drink—after all, he graduated today, but he insisted water was fine.
Every graduating senior deserves some form of celebration. It’s a milestone in everyone’s life. If not a graduation party, one should get a dinner, at the very least. So that’s what I’m doing. I picked up Jackson from a pre-designated spot on an all but abandoned country road by the farm. He hunched down in the car’s seat, out of view, until we were well out of our town limits. I drove us to this fancy restaurant a good hour away from anyone we know. But I still can’t calm my nerves.
Being here, out in the open, with Jackson—a student, well as in a few hours ago, a former student—is causing my skin to crawl with anxious perspiration.
Pulling in a breath, I force a smile. “No, I’m fine. This is fine.”
He quirks a brow. “Say fine one more time, and I might believe you.”
“I’m sorry.” I reach across the table and grab his hand, squeezing it before letting go. “We’re here to celebrate you, and that’s what we’re going to do.” I sit back in my seat. “We’re far from home. I’m just freaking out for nothing. I want this to be special, and I’m ruining it.”
He plays with the collar of his shirt—the shirt that’s required as part of the dress code here—the one I borrowed from my father’s closet for Jackson to wear. I’m an idiot. This whole outing is a joke, but I wanted to see what more with Jackson would be like.
We want to continue to see each other, yet we can hardly call what we have a relationship. We text often, though I have him stored in my phone as Jackie in case anyone gets ahold of my phone. I don’t even know a Jackie. When we’re out in public, we’ll shoot each other stolen glances or he’ll accidentally brush my arm with his as he passes. The only time we can truly be together and talk freely is when we’re hiding away in Old Man Warren’s barn. That’s not a relationship. It’s a secret—an affair.
I want more, as does he. This was my attempt, my first step, toward that. And it’s a fail.
“You’re not ruining it. It will take time.” He shrugs. “We have to figure out how you and I can work in the real world, and I only want to do what you’re comfortable with. I never want your decision to be with me to affect you negatively. So, we go slow. You’re worth the wait, Savannah.”
The corners of my mouth tilt up as my name leaves his lips, and I nod.
“Plus, a night out with you, and a fancy steak dinner. How can I complain about that? I’m used to regular from the farm meat. With the price of this one, it must be crested in diamonds or something,” he teases.
